


Blood Rising

by ironbutterfly25



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, Electra Complex, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Oedipal Issues, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Man, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, oedipus complex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15940577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironbutterfly25/pseuds/ironbutterfly25
Summary: He's the son of the Devil himself. Took his rightful place in hell at the age of thirteen. And at sixteen, he has fallen in love with a saint... or is she the serpent?[onesided Jake x Jill] [Wesker x Jill][AU tied in with canon events]





	Blood Rising

**Author's Note:**

> I'm desperate for some Jake and Jill fic, so I might as well write one. I want it action-packed, angsty and fluffy and smutty, and like a RE6 team up close to Fire Starter. But I gotta insert Wesker in the story this time around so yeah, let's see where this really goes.
> 
> Reused prologue is reused. My old works (Forsaken & Blood Rising) are undergoing some rewriting~

 

* * *

 

He first saw  _her_  on a freezing night in 2008.

A blizzard was raging above the underground laboratory. It looked fatal and felt terrible. The heaters were not working. Or so they said.

"Conserving energy"

That was the reason given by one of the outstanding researchers. 'Conserving' his ass.

Upon further investigation, a more plausible explanation was discovered. At the deeper section of the facility, in one of the several constantly locked down rooms—a glass coffin was uncovered.

He gravitated towards the forbidden room. A different sort of warmth creeped through its heavy metal doors, beckoning him close.

Inside there...

Encased in a crytal chest was a woman.

Pale gold hair and porcelain white skin.

Peaceful and serene.

Hauntingly beautiful.

Was she Snow White or the Ice Queen?

"And what do you think you're doing here?"  _His_  voice would never stop  _grating_  in his ears. Few men were undaunted by the sound of it. Most were petrified by the shadow of his presence.

Scientist.

Terrorist.

Tyrant.

 _Father_.

An actual conversation wouldn't hurt, as seldom as they come. His mouth opened to give a civil reply.

"Is the last fund transfer sufficient?"

The attempt to act decent was immediately dropped. It was not worth it.

An intense anger always enveloped his being whenever  _he_  had the gall to talk about his mother.

As if he was invested in their well-being.

As if he cared about them.

As if he  _loved_...

In the couple of years of staying with the man revealed to be as his biological father, he became certain of one thing about him.

 _Albert Wesker was incapable of love_.

* * *

When he was but a naive young boy, he literally had to grovel at his mother's feet once, for her to give him his father's name.

But she had only smiled a broken smile at him. Brought his small body in her embrace. Stated that they  _only have_  and  _only need_  one another.

That was years ago and almost forgotten.

He had become a mercenary at twelve.

Not notable enough.

For there had been child soldiers way younger than him.

He was able to sustain their living conditions... for a while.

And then it simply became not enough.

Not enough at all.

Her health suddenly took a bad turn. Until it was getting worse and worst in each given day. The hospital she was confined in seemed to exhibit more of the ability of torturing their patients rather than healing them. The bills were continuously inflating. And his services were constantly failing.

Desperation had finally gotten to him and with his loose mouth, he had spilled the beans to his mother that he was planning on selling a kidney at the black market.

The sight of her heartbroken tears made him wish for the ground to open and swallow him up.

That was when she had told him the  _name_  of his father. And with resolve in her voice, she asked him to seek his help, begged him to beseech his aid.

He didn't want to.

He had always hated him.

Loathed the man who had abandoned them.

So he  _lied_  to his beloved mother. Kissed her on the cheek. Left the hospital in a hurry and in the pretense of heeding her wish.

He had sold one of his kidneys that day.

For quite a good price.

And the monster who had bought that part of himself was unveiled to be  _none other_  than his father.

* * *

The kidney was surgically implanted back to its rightful place in his body.

That specific organ wasn't necessary for the mad scientist's research.

 _His blood_ , on the other hand, was proven  _useful_.

Suitable compensation was provided in exchange for his life source.

He was being paid well. And his mother was recovering well. Or so they said.

For he had been taken  _prisoner_. And it was already too late when the realization dawned on him.

A glorified guinea pig.

That was what he had become.

Unknown viral agents were tested on him. Some barely had any effect. Some had nearly resulted to permanent affliction.

The pain could and would be endured.

For ample money was being made.

And even if it had been just on a blurry computer screen, he was able to see that she was  _smiling_.

* * *

He  _really_  first saw her on a freezing night in 2008.

It was freezing for most of the evening in the underground laboratory. And in the dead of the night, exactly at the Devil's hour, the temperature became pleasantly warm. Then steadily became unbearably hot.

It seemed the 'phase' for conserving energy had come to pass. That meant most of the power being supplied to that  _special_  cryogenic chamber had stopped.

His feet brought him to the forbidden room.

Interested to see the glass coffin.

Eager to gaze at the maiden slumbering in the crystal chest again.

But the ice chamber was empty.

The metal table for dissecting corpses, on the other hand, was not.

* * *

He really first saw her.

 _All of her_.

Carelessly laid out like a fine sacrifice on that cold altar.

Snow white skin flushed in an almost rosy tone.

Flaxen hair spilled over the edge, sticky with sweat.

She was crying and breaking into pretty pieces.

And he did nothing but stood by the door.

As his devil of a father ravaged her.

"Please...  _Please_. Please...  _Stop_..." Her tears were endless. Her pleas tireless.

But her unmarred arms were clinging around the monstrosity. Tightening with each passing second. Her flawless legs were wrapping around the abomination. Tautening with each ruthless thrust.

Her back arched off of the table. So sharply. It looked like her spine would splinter.

And then she moaned and cried and  _moaned_  loud and even  _louder_  before her enchantress' voice was entrapped by his father's vicious mouth.

The devil and the lamb fused and stilled and shuddered uncontrollably.

And there was an unbreakable silence.

* * *

He was  _sixteen_  when he first saw her.

All of her.

On that freezing then burning night, their eyes had locked with each other.

Addled azure and curious cerulean.

She looked at him like he couldn't be seen. Her gaze shrouded in pleasure.

Like nothing else mattered but the haze and the heat that surrounded her.

Then she looked at him like he was the only thing that was existing in that time and space. Her gaze was piercing in pain.

Like he was the only one who could save her.

The connection was severed the moment her body was  _claimed_  again.

He was at a loss and had to leave as her soul was  _collected_.

And then all he could hear until the darkest hour before dawn were her whispers in the shadows.

_"Wesker... Please..."_

 


End file.
